I'm (Not) Fine
by yachikins
Summary: After the Nogitsune's defeat, Stiles heads home Spoilers for The Divine Move


In all honesty, Stiles wasn't sure how he managed to stay upright and on his feet long enough to make it home, his whole body was sore and quite frankly he felt like he could sleep for weeks but after all the had happened he supposed that really was to be expected. He knew that just because they had defeated the Nogitsune it didn't mean that things were going to immediately be back to normal, but at least the danger was gone; well gone for now at least, this was Beacon Hills after all.

Turning off the engine and climbing out of his jeep, Stiles couldn't help but wince at the pain that shot through his body. While he no longer felt constantly cold, the ache that seemed to reach all the way into his bones still remained; a constant reminder off all that had happened.

He didn't know what exactly was causing it, perhaps it was just a result of his body having gone days without sleep, but to be honest he was kind of glad for it. He knew that nobody blamed him for the actions of the Nogitsune; for the deaths it had caused, but despite that he couldn't help but place at least some of the blame on himself.

If he was only stronger maybe he would have been able to keep the fox from taking control of him, if he was a werewolf or a kitsune or some other supernatural creature maybe he could have been useful in fighting the oni, maybe he could have kept Allison and Aiden from dying. But that was the thing, he was a werewolf or a kitsune or even a hunter, he was just a plain old weak human and sometimes he hated it.

Taking out his key and unlocking the front door, Stiles shook his head as if doing so could shake those thoughts from his head. Dwelling on the guilt he felt wasn't going to help, it would just drag him down; he couldn't change who or what he was. Well, not unless he asked Scott to bite him, but he wouldn't do that to his best friend.

Opening the door to his room and flopping down on his bed, Stiles let out a tired sigh. For now the only thing he could really do was push aside the guilt and act like he was alright, it wasn't exactly a healthy coping method he knew but it was what he had always done. If he didn't bottle up what he was feeling then people would likely notice something was wrong and he knew that his dad for one would want him to talk about it.

If it was just the guilt, talking might help, but the fact of the matter was that Stiles had about 8 years worth of negative thoughts and emotions bottled up and if he let even a little of it out he didn't think he could stop the rest from escaping as well.

Maybe once things had calmed down and everything was back to normal he could think about seeing a psychiatrist or something and talking about it. But then again maybe not, the flood of bottled up emotions would probably end up drowning him. Still whether he ever talked or not wasn't really a huge worry of his right now, he was more concern with making sure no one would have any reason to suspect he wasn't as fine as he said he was. With two funerals to prepare and who knows what else to deal with, Stiles really wanted to make sure he didn't add any more baggage to his friend's shoulders.

Obviously they wouldn't believe him if he told them that he was completely fine, you didn't go through all that had happened the past few days and come out just fine, but they didn't need to know everything. They didn't to know about all the guilt he felt, or how he was going to have nightmares for a long time about all the things the Nogitsune did while he was trapped in his mind, they didn't need to know that his body ached and that he wasn't actually sure that he wasn't still dying. All of those things could wait, some just until everything had calmed down and others...well the others would continue to wait for a long, long time.

Kicking off his shoes and rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes so he could try to get some sleep. Considering how long it had been since he'd had a full night's rest it should have been easy for him to drift off, except it wasn't. Despite having felt completely exhausted just a few minutes earlier, his body now felt completely wired; similar to how he felt after having had a large dose of Adderall. Except unlike after having Adderall he couldn't seem to focus, thoughts kept speeding through his head; there one minute and then gone the next.

Was his dad okay? He'd dropped by the Sheriff's station to check on him before he'd come home and he'd looked okay, he'd certainly been well enough to order Stiles to go home and get some rest while he helped clean things up at the station; but what if something had happened since then? And what about Scott's mom and Deaton, were the two of them okay? Scott and Derek had gone to check on them and Stiles was sure they would have called if something was wrong, but that didn't stop him worrying.

There was no way that he was going to get any sleep right now and just laying there doing nothing was just going to give him the chance to keep worrying, so he might as well get up and do something; at the very least until his dad got home.

Sitting up slowly, Stiles glanced around his room. He could get on his computer, or maybe read some comics, but honestly neither idea really appealed to him at the moment. Instead he made his way downstairs and towards the kitchen, it had been a while since he'd last eaten; the only thing he'd really had in the last 24 hours had been the chamomile tea that Mrs. Yukimura had offered him. He was willing to bet that his dad was going to be hungry as well when he got home, so he might as well go ahead and make dinner for both of them.

Cooking was something that had always been relaxing to Stiles, back before his mom had gotten sick he used to always help her in the kitchen. It had been something special the two of them did together and so it was in the kitchen that he always felt the closest to her memory and the most at ease. As he gathered the ingredients to make spaghetti, with turkey burger in place of hamburger of course, he felt some of the tension he had been feeling seep out of his body. For the moment it was possible for him to just forget everything that had happened lately and just be alone with the happy memories he had of cooking with his mom.

The food was almost finished when Stiles heard his father's squad car pull into the driveway, turning off the stove as the sound of the front door opening reached him, Stiles set about trying to find some clean dishes.

"Hey dad, welcome home!" For a moment there was silence but then it was broken by the sound of footsteps heading towards the kitchen.

"While I suppose I could be getting forgetful in my old age, I'm pretty sure I told you to go home and rest; not go home and cook." Having finally located two clean plates, Stiles turned around and was faced with the sight of his father gazing at him sternly. Shrugging slightly, Stiles rubbed the back of his head,

"I know, but I couldn't sleep." Turning to point at the pot of spaghetti on the stove he grinned, "I made food though! You want some?" His father stared at him for a moment before letting at a sigh and peering at the spaghetti,

"I don't suppose that's real hamburger?" He asked in a hopeful voice. Stiles shook his head,

"Nope," he said, with perhaps a bit to much cheer, "Nothing but the best turkey burger for you." His father rolled his eyes,

"How wonderful" He said in a voice that made it clear he thought it was anything but wonderful, "Oh well, I suppose I should be grateful you didn't use tofu. Sure I'll have some." Stiles pointed a fork at him threateningly,

"Careful, you don't want to give me any ideas." Turning around to scoop some of the food onto a plate, a small but genuine smile slipped onto Stiles face. The playful banter between him and his father felt good, it felt like it had been too long since it had last happened.

As he offered the plate to his father he could feel the man studying him carefully, almost as if he thought he was something fragile.

"Are you okay?" The question caught Stiles off guard, although he supposed he should have expected it.

"What? Me? Yeah, of course, I'm…I'm fine." He answered quickly, and if his voice cracked slightly on the word fine, well it wasn't too noticeable. Or maybe it was noticeable, judging by the expression on his father's face.

"Stiles…." His father said, using his 'dad' voice. You know the one that somehow manages to say 'I'm not mad at you but I know you're lying to me and I want the truth' all in just one word and then you can't help but admit everything. His dad had always been good at using that voice, maybe it came with being a cop.

"Alright, I'm not fine" Stiles admitted and somehow saying it out loud made it seem all the more real , "I'm exhausted but I can't sleep, my whole body is sore and every time I close my I see Allison's dead body. I'm pretty far from being fine, but…" He looked up at his father, his eyes pleading. "I can't deal with it right now, it's just too much and there's too much that needs to be done."

The look in his father's eyes after his admittance just about killed him, it was the look of someone who desperately wanted to make everything better but didn't know how. He'd seen the same look in his father's eyes when his mom had been dying in the hospital.

A firm hand was placed on his shoulder,

"Alright" His father said, voice chocked with emotion, "Then don't deal with it right now, but if…when you're ready to deal with it, I'll be right here." Stiles just nodded, not trusting that his voice wouldn't betray just how scared and worried he was. That seemed to be good enough for his dad who gave his shoulder a quick squeeze before letting go.

"Alright, well what say you we eat before the food gets cold?"


End file.
